


lovers & madmen

by TheoMiller



Category: Knight & Rogue - Hilari Bell
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is living in a motel while attending his senior year; Fisk is not going to be friends with the rich boy in his classes; Kathryn struggles to come to terms with her sexual orientation; Judith gets into trouble for fighting the social system; and Rosamund is just so pretty it's like a disability. Oh, and there's the school play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ACT I

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from FFN. Oh, and, yes, part of that description is taken straight from the Mary Sue Litmus Test, because let's face it, Rosamund being hot as hell is pretty much the entire subplot of Player's Ruse. Shameless use of Shakespeare.

**The Players**

In Crown City, where our story takes place, there were ostensibly two groups: there were rich, Gifted kids and there were the poor kids whose line had died out. It'd been about fifty years since the schools were forced to mix because of equal rights groups. Not much had changed between the two social classes otherwise.

One of the more influential families in the school was the Sevenson family; Roland Sevenson hadn't been born particularly wealthy, but he'd clawed his way to the top. His daughter, Kathryn, was possibly the most sought-after girl in the school, despite her mousy hair, a gangly form, and crooked glasses. She was extremely Gifted and clever, but not particularly pretty. Her brothers had all graduated, with the exception of the youngest Sevenson brother, Michael. Michael was reasonably good looking and even Gifted, but the Gift was passed on through the second X chromosome, and he didn't get on very well with anyone else. Which was strange, since Michael was hands-down one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, even if he did have a pseudo-incestuous crush on his godsister.

Probably the least liked and poorest family in the school was the Fisk family—the oldest of the girls and legal guardian to her siblings, Anna, had already graduated. Anna was engaged to a lawyer who wasn't Gifted, but did have a good deal more money than the Fisks. Then there was Judith, who was sarcastic and tough, known mainly for her obscure and radical politics. Lissy was a freshman, pretty and friendly and maybe a bit too likeable, because she had difficulty keeping boys from following her around.

And then there was Nonny. Nonny, short for Nonopherian, was the only boy. He refused to answer to anything but Fisk after 5th year, for good reason, because Nonopherian is a ridiculous name. So we’ll call him Fisk.

Fisk was not well liked. His only defence against the rest of the world was a tough attitude and his ability to con his way out of nearly anything. That wasn't to say he was unintelligent, naturally; actually, he was probably smarter than 90% of the school's population. He was in all advanced classes and read classical literature in his free time. He was reasonably attractive as well; the sort that mothers prayed would come home with their daughters and daughters only went out with to make the boys they actually wanted to date jealous. Not that Fisk had really dated anyone—he'd gone to a dance with Lucy in seventh year, and there had been Jack in freshman year, but neither could really be considered relationship material.

So the fact that Ceciel Mallory put Michael and Fisk next to one another in her homeroom AP Psychology class was either pure genius or absolute insanity—though the fact that they had perfectly matching schedules is purely a cosmic sense of humour.

**ACT I:**

**Scene 1:**

"Ooh," Judith said as she looked over Fisk's shoulder at the Facebook page. "Michael Sevenson 'wants to know who has a class with him'. Can't imagine who else would be taking AP Psych, AP English, Theatre, AP Calculus, AP Physics, AP Government and… Really, Nonny? Theatre?"

"It helps with cons," He yawned.

Anna thwacked him over the head, gently, as she walked by. "Fisk, if you put 'con artist' on your papers again this year, I will not talk to the guidance counselors about your ‘unusual sense of humour’ again."

"It helps if you don't say that every single year," Judith pointed out.

Lissy giggled and ducked her head when Anna swatted at her, too.

**Scene 2:**

Quite the different scene was going on in the Sevenson household.

"When did you enrol in Theatre?" Michael's father demanded.

Michael met his gaze unflinchingly, to his credit. "After you signed it, I went back and erased my elective choice. I decided shop class was superfluous, given that I already know how to take care of Chant, and that's the only care I'll ever need."

"Only twinks take theatre," His mother said.

"Benny took theatre!" Michael protested.

"Benny wears sweater vests," She sniffed, as though that were the deciding factor of sexual orientation. "We gave up on getting grandchildren from him long ago."

There was a quiet throat clearing from the doorway. "Benny is attracted to the opposite sex, he's just a little genderfluid. Even if he were gay, he could adopt kids," Kathy said.

"All these fancy new words," her father said dismissively. "There's straight and there's gay, and that's that."

Kathryn opened her mouth, then closed it and bit her lip. If tears were welling up behind the glasses, her father didn't notice. He was already regarding his youngest son with a fierce stare once again. "I want you to drop out and take something useful. You're not becoming an actor, Michael. There's no point taking this class," He said.

"I could," Michael argued. "I can be anything I choose."

"Did I stutter?" he hissed.

"No, sir."

"Then—"

"But I refuse," Michael continued calmly. "I have taken every class required for my advanced diploma, and I got into Harvard. Now I want to take a class I'll enjoy."

"You're still living under my roof—you will do as I say."

Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Michael stood up and walked away.

"I am not done speaking to you!"

"Oh, but I am," Michael said, without turning around.

Their father had a moment of silent outrage, and then stormed after his son with his wife on his heels.

"Please don't fight," Kathryn said to the empty sitting room.

**Scene 3:**

"You're Kathryn Sevenson," Someone said from behind Kathy, the next day at school.

Kathy closed her locker to see Judith Fisk leaning against the locker beside hers. "Yeah. Judith, right?"

"Your brother and my brother are in all the same classes."

"Yeah," Kathy said.

"I'm in their Theatre class. Hacked the roll sheet, and surprise-surprise, there's your name."

"You can hack?" She said, eyes wide. Then she shook her head. "Um, yeah. My dad was being really mean about Michael taking the class, so I decided to take it with him."

Judith's eyes narrowed. "A lot of Giftless people think that nothing ever goes wrong in Gifted families—propaganda and all."

"A lot Gifted people pretend that's the case," Kathy allowed.

The other girl grinned, somewhere between shark and Cheshire Cat. "See you around, Sevenson."

**Scene 4:**

"Fisk, Sevenson," Mrs Mallory said, looking down at her seating chart with a faint grin.

Fisk froze as Michael moved to sit down at the desk she'd pointed to.  _This sick, twisted bitch is performing a social experiment on her students_ , he realised.  _Fuck_.

"What?!" One of the Gifted girls hissed. Fisk shot her a glare as he went to sit down with Michael.

"Hello," Michael said politely. "I'm Michael," He held out a hand, which Fisk ignored. Personally, he reckoned it was showing remarkable restraint to not say  _well duh_  to the introduction. "Uh… You're a junior, right? You must be in really advanced classes to match my schedule so exactly. Guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this year."

"Believe it or not, normal people can be smart too," Fisk snapped.

Michael stared at him, something akin to anger flashing just below the surface for one long dragged-on moment. Then, "I know."

Fisk rolled his eyes and opened his book—today his book of choice was a rather worn copy of  _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_.

"You're reading the foreword?" Michael hissed. "No one reads those!"

 _You interrupted my reading_ , Fisk thought violently. There were two cardinal rules of Fisk’s life: one, books are far better than people; two, people who come between Fisk and books are the worst sort of people. Out loud, without looking away from his page, "It's very cleverly written."

Michael fought a grin. "You're  _re_ reading the foreword?"

"Okay, um, wow. Look, Sevenson. I read books to avoid idiots like you, 'kay? I'm sure you live in a happy, naïve little world where we can get along, but I'm really not interested in anything but getting out of this bloody school. Understand?"

"I have a book I reread a lot," Michael said, undeterred. "It's called  _The Sword in the Stone_. Suppose you've read it?"

"Sentimental, overly Christianised crap," Fisk replied calmly, turning the page. "Chaucer is better."

Michael stared at Fisk. Finally, "I like Poirot better than Holmes."

There was a thud as the book was closed a bit too violently. "You  _what_?" He said lowly. Then he raised his hand. "Mrs Mallory? I can't sit here."

"On what grounds?" She asked, lips twitching.  _Bitch_ , Fisk thought again.

"Blasphemy."

"Oh, for—Holmes is the better detective, alright? Happy?"

Fisk glared. "He's also a better  _person_. How could you  _ever_  like Poirot better?"

"Holmes is very rude," Michael said.

"Hang on—have you read this?" Fisk demanded, and brandished the book at him. "Have you read a single story?"

Michael paused, and then admitted, "No, but I've seen the movies."

"Yeah, well, my sisters watched  _Merlin_ —does that mean they can judge T H White?"

Before the conversation could devolve into a study of the relative worth of various modern interpretations of classical literature, both were distracted by Mrs Mallory, who was definitely smirking as she passed out papers. "Well, boys, I guess you'll have to agree to disagree."

Fisk took a paper and swore inventively. Written at the top of the page were the words:

_ALL SEATS ARE PERMANENT. STUDENTS WILL BE PARTNERED WITH THEIR TABLEMATE FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE SCHOOL YEAR._

Michael started laughing. Fisk's forehead hit his book with a  _thunk_.

**Scene 5:**

Kathy caught up to Michael in the courtyard on his way to study hall. "Here," She said as she thrust a full duffle into his arms.

"What?" He asked, looking in confusion at the bag.

"More clothing, some extra cash, and your favourite books—I know it's not ideal, but might as well have your things. And I got Benny to buy you a phone—it's cheap, but it'll work. I'll save the number under 'Abby' or some other innocuous name."

"I'm so sorry to leave you alone," Michael said. "I swear, the moment you're sixteen, we'll get you declared an adult and you can move in with me and I'll get another job so we can get a condo or—"

"You're rambling," She deflected.

"I'm serious, Kathy, you always have a place with me."

She stood on tiptoes to kiss her brother's cheek. "I've got Rose. She's daft, but I won't be alone."

Michael hugged her briefly and then hurried to make his class before the bell rang.


	2. ACT II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shakespeare & skittles.

**Scene 1:**

Two weeks later they reached that point where teachers decide it was okay to start assigning projects. Psych had a joint presentation on free will vs determinism; Gov assigned every group of two a different government from throughout the ages; Physics was a three page paper on Newton's laws; English was their reading of  _The Scarlet Letter_ ; Calc was yet to yield any projects, but the complicated worksheets they got every class was more than enough; and Theatre was already starting on the fall play.

"I hate this play," Michael griped to Kathy when they sat down.

"I think it's hilarious. And Rudy is really good."

He scowled. "I wish Rosamund would stop mooning over him."

"Isn't she like your cousin or something?" Judith asked, playing with her pen. By some strange agreement, based mainly on their mutual lack of friends, Judith and the two Sevensons had ended up sitting together.

"No, just our god-sister; she lives with us because her parents died when she was little. Car crash," Kathryn explained. "Ooh! Kara! Make Rosamund our cousin," She called to Kara, a girl who wrote stories nearly constantly.

"Thanks," Kara called back. She nodded slowly, digesting the information to make it fit into the confines of her story, and then set down her knitting for her notebook. "It'll have to be… second cousin, though. Unless I shift the setting and…”

“Come on, get in here," Makejoye called down the hallway to Fisk.

He loped in just as the bell rang and flashed a fake grin at the other students. Judith hummed in concern.

"What happened to you?" Michael said bluntly.

Fisk stared at him, then looked at Judith. "See?"

Judith waved a hand absently and returned to her script reading. Kathryn leaned towards her. "See what?" She whispered.

"That I can't enlist Michael for my next act of dubiously legal moral activism, since he's too direct. And loud,” she explained, still scanning the play. Then Judith realised with a jolt she'd just told a Gifted girl she wanted to subversively attack the current social system and had a moment of panic before she read Kathryn's face and established that the girl A, already knew and B, wasn't unduly concerned.

"Can _I_ help?" Kathy asked.

Now, there were three ways Judith could respond. She could tell Kathryn that it had to be a boy, which was a lie and totally ridiculous. She could tell her that she was too young to handle what Judith was planning, which was probably true and rather condescending. Or she could say— "If you'd like," Judith answered coolly.

Meanwhile, Michael was trying to drag the truth out of Fisk about why he was late and acting strangely, and Fisk was becoming more and more snappish as he deflected his question. Finally, "I got into a fight, alright?"

"Why would you do that?" Michael asked.

Judith arched an eyebrow at Michael’s wording and Kathy's forehead became rather acquainted with her palm.

"Oh, yeah, I wanted to get into a fight," Fisk retorted angrily. "I'm just so uncivilised."

"You are one snippy bastard," Joe Potter observed from a few rows behind them.

Judith shot him a razor sharp glare. "And  _you_  are eavesdropping."

He ducked his head and she returned to watching Fisk bristle silently at Michael, and wondered whether she should mediate. But it seemed Michael was dealing with it himself, because he reached out and curled his fingers around Fisk's wrist. "My intention was not to imply that you chose to fight. I was merely concerned that something had happened to make you a target." He was all wide-eyed and earnest like a puppy—Fisk hates dogs.

"You happened, idiot." Fisk snapped, pulling his arm free. "I'm only a target because you follow me around like a lost puppy. People like you do not hang out with people like me."

"People are free to do as they will," Michael said, and Judith heard the echoes of their argument on their psych project.

"No, they really aren't. People are a product of their pasts and their genetic structure. You grew up in huge house on the nice side of town. I grew up in cramped townhouse, sharing a room with my _evil_  sister—" Judith snicked "—and you have magica in your genes. I don't. Our lives wouldn't have even crossed if Mrs. Mallory weren't so interested in her sick twisted psychology experiment."

"If we’re so different, then why are we friends?" Michael challenged.

Judith let her head slump back against the chair. Her little brother had never had a friend before, and he was going to stomp all over—

"Because you're a stubborn bastard?" He volunteered. "Seriously, even if I did manage to get rid of you,  _Judith_  would act like I'd kicked a puppy."

—he'd just admitted to having a friend. Judith grabbed Kathy's arm, and they shared an excited look.

"Alright, you lot, stop socialising and let's get to work," Mr. Makejoye interrupted.

"Everyone stop!" Callista, an old friend of Judith’s and currently cast as Titania in the play, said loudly. "There's a regular Skittle in my Wild Berry Skittles." She held up the offending orange candy.

Kathy cocked her head to one side. "But you love Skittles."

"I opened these Skittles with the expectation of being  _wild_. This is not  _wild_."

"Perfect solution," Fisk said, and reached out to take the Skittle, which he promptly popped into his mouth.

Calliste fished out her phone. "I'm calling them."

The entire theatre group paused and watched as she dialed the number, even Mr Makejoye.

"I'm on hold," She hissed.

"Well, while we wait for this gripping scene to unfold, let's get back to work," Makejoye said. "Rosamund, Judith, Rudy, and Joe – onstage, all of you." No one had the heart to remind him that they didn't have a stage, just a cleared space at the front of the classroom.

Judith sighed and climbed to her feet, mostly just thankful that she was Hermia and not Helena. Joe wasn't her favourite person in the world, and she wasn't looking forward to the sappiness in general, but at least she didn't have to go through the creepy ass spaniel routine. Sadly, that wasn't much of an act for Rosamund. Rosamund swooned once. Legitimately  _swooned_. Who the hell  _swoons_  in the 21st century?

Apparently, just Rosamund.

"Don't you just  _love_  this play Rudy? Isn't it so  _romantic_? I wish we were doing Romeo and Juliet."

It took everything Judith had to not throttle her, and she ended up making a tiny whimpering noise. If Rosamund were a character in a book, Judith would cry, because she had absolutely no agency – her life had revolved around her godfather, which had been overshadowed by Michael's epic crush on her, and that in turn shadowed by her new obsession with Rudy.

"We're not doing Romeo and Juliet because the entire world has failed to notice that it's a satire and instead romanticise double suicides," Judith snarked. Rosamund looked crushed.

"Act three, scene two, starting from "why should you think I woo in scorn"," Makejoye said.

The run-through went well enough, even with Rosamund mumbling most of her lines and Joe accidentally stubbing his toe on a crate and Judith pausing to make noises that suggested the entire world had failed her by placing her in this situation.

When Fisk and Michael were called up to play Oberon and Puck, the entire class was grinning. Even the boys seemed to be forgetting that they were reading lines and actually sounded like they were having a proper conversation. Fisk sounded somewhat bitter upon the words, "Jack shall have Jill", but Michael was too busy trying to sit back down without making noise to notice what literally everyone else did: accidentally as it was, Fisk was playing Puck as if he were nursing an unrequited crush on Oberon.

Judith met Kathy's eyes and they shared a grin.

"Yes!" Callista yelled suddenly.

They all stared. "What?" She said, shrugging. "I'm getting a coupon code for a free new pack of Wild Berry Skittles."

"Our Titania focuses on the important things," Makejoye said drily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually think Rosamund has no agency - she ran away from home and was actually pretty goddamn awesome in Player's Ruse, but Judith is looking at a version of Rosamund who lives in a comfortably large house in the suburbs.


	3. ACT III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Players & plumbing.

**Scene 1:**

The school was eerie at night. Each click of Kathy's smart black boots against the linoleum echoed strangely in the long, empty halls. She kicked an abandoned pen with her next step and it skittered across the floor.

Judith gave her a dirty look, and she made an apologetic gesture, "The guard does a round every twenty minutes. If you make a misstep when he's in earshot, you'll be in heaps of trouble with your folks," Judith told her in a sharp whisper.

"What about you?" said Kathy in the same low voice.

"I'll be expelled and they'll press charges," Judith said humorlessly.

"So let's be careful, shall we?"

Kathy folded her arms. "I'll tell them it was my idea and you came along to make sure I didn't get myself hurt. I've never had so much as an honor code violation. They'll believe me. I'm an excellent liar."

"You?"

"I'm homoromantic demisexual, and my family has no idea."

Judith opened her mouth to reply, but they were interrupted by the door which separated their hallway from the next opened with an alarming creak. Kathy startled, but Judith just clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the sheltered recess of a classroom door.

The guard walked slow, way too slow, humming nonchalantly.

Kathy's entire body was shaking with fear, jarring her against Judith's tense form. His shoes scuffed the floor as he positively strolled past where they were huddled. Kathryn sighed in relief, and Judith's hand tightened over her mouth, but the guard didn't so much as pause in his walking or his humming.

A moment later, the next hall door creaked open and slowly slammed shut.

Judith's arm dropped, and Kathy slumped against her. "Oh, gods," she murmured. "I thought for sure we were caught."

"The brain fills in what it expects to see unless you're actively seeking out the truth. If he'd heard voices or that bloody pen, we would have been."

"We should get this done fast and get out of here," Kathy said.

Judith made a noise of assent. Then, "Sevenson?"

"What?"

"You're still using me as a vertical pillow."

Kathy let out an oh of surprise and sprang away. "Sorry," she said.

Judith hummed in acknowledgement and started off into the bathroom. The slim rectangle of slightly less ink-and-grit covered door was a visible reminder of the plaque that had once declared it a Gifted bathroom, when the school had been "desegregated" in a very nominal way.

Kathy lifted the purse full of tools and set it on the bathroom sink. "Which spanner do we need?"

"The large one first." Judith said, and Kathy handed it over.

"How do you know this much about plumbing? I thought your mum was a seamstress."

"Fisk and I took on odd jobs to pay for her medical bills," Judith said, even as she crouched beside one of the toilets, "and then more for her cremation. We've been mechanics, chimney sweeps, fry cooks, servers at banquets, repairmen, crossing guards, everything you can imagine. Anna babysat for a bunch of rich families after mum was gone. The judge who emancipated her had kids, and he sort of took pity on her. I think Lizzie tried to have a Cool-Aid stand, but it was winter... All right, pass me the little wrench."

"How old were you?" asked Kathy, softly, even as she complied.

Judith frowned at the pipe for a moment. "When my mother died? Fourteen. But the work started when I was twelve. Anna was fourteen, but she's not good with her hands. She waited a few tables for bars that were too dive-y to be upset that she was underage for work, booze, and the propositions their patrons offered."

A large, silvery nut came loose, and Judith caught in a gloved hand. "Well, that should do it for this one. Put it in the bag, will you?" She held it out, and Kathy pulled the plastic shopping bag out of the purse.

Judith didn't bother getting up, just rolled under the gap between the stall's bottom, into the next one. The spanners didn't so much as clink the tiles.

Kathy put the nut in the bag and glanced up at Judith. "I'll dump it in my neighborhood. They'll probably not look for it there, so if we screwed up on the fingerprint thing, we'll be safe."

"You're a natural, kid," Judith said appreciatively.

"I'm only three years younger than you," Kathy said. "I'm hardly a child."

"Yeah, you're actually a devious sonuvabitch, apparently. How's a Gifted golden girl get so ballsy, anyway?"

"Well, I guess I started getting annoyed with how girls in books act like Rosamund, so I asked a librarian were I could find books where the girls do the rescuing."

"And you went from reading books with realistic women to... Openly defying your parents' wishes, identifying as queer, and committing vandalism with a radical activist you barely know?"

"My brother has never had a friend before. Ever. He's attached to Fisk. So you're family."

"I don't think families have worked out well for either of us, Sevenson."

"That's why I choose my own," said Kathryn, seriously. "So, want to teach me how to do this so I can speed things up?"

Judith lifted her head. "All right," she said, "first you need a large spanner..."


	4. ACT IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speeches & social change.

**Scene 1**

"Why are Gifted people using the normal bathrooms?" Fisk said, within five minutes of walking in the door.

Michael frowned. "The bathrooms are different?"

"Oh, sweetums," a complete stranger said, from where she was taking books out of her locker, none of which appeared school related, "Of course the bathrooms are different. The widespread oppression of class groups doesn't just go away when you take down the plaques and add a few normal people to the Gifted classes."

Fisk snickered.

"Who even was that?" Michael asked.

"That's Nettie. You know that lady who lives out in an ancient barn thing in the outskirts of town? The one who used to be a hooker in New York?"

"No," Michael said, "and how do you know that? Wait, never mind. Bathrooms?"

"Katie Hawkson is going into the non-Gifted bathroom. The brainless soccer boys who hit on your sister are in my usual bathroom. This whole thing reeks of Judith."

As if on cue, Judith appeared from the crowd, Kathy and Lissy in tow. "Hello boys. When did you two start walking to class together?"

"He's my personal, if unwanted, guard dog. He thinks Dawkins won't get near me if I have an overzealous idiot protecting me."

Judith smirked and opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted when another student - sandy brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average face, entirely forgettable - slipped into the space between Fisk and his sister. "Jack," she said.

"Judith," he said curtly. "Fisk, is Dawkins bothering you?"

"Piss off," said Fisk.

Jack frowned at him, then looked at Michael. "Ah. I see. You must be Michael Sevenson."

"I am. Sorry, who are you?"

"Your father is a very prominent businessman, is he not?"

"He and I don't speak."

Jack's lip curled. "I can see why."

"Is there a point to this conversation, Mr Bannister?" Said Kathy. "Or is it Markham? I'm sorry, who won the custody battle?"

Jack sneered wordlessly at her before addressing Fisk. "Remember where you fall, Fisk."

"I remember," said Fisk, and Jack left.

"That was ruthless," Lissy said, awed.

"That was stupid," said Fisk.

Michael sighed. "That wasn't very kind, Kathy."

"No," said Judith. "But it was hot. I could KISS you, Kathy Sevenson!"

There was an awkward pause as Kathy went pink and Judith’s mouth snapped shut.

"What was Jack talking about, where you fall?" Kathy asked.

"Oh," said Fisk, unhappily. "Come on, let's get to class, I'll show you in Theatre."

**Scene 2:**

"Come on, show me," Michael hissed.

"Fiiiine," Fisk said. "All right, so, the social strata is divided into quarters. Well, actually, it's divided a lot further than that, but that's not what Jack meant."

"Show me," Michael said again, more softly.

He drew a line down a piece of paper in red ink, then a perpendicular line across in black. "Okay, so, upper left, quadrant 2, Gifted winners. Lower left, quadrant 3, Gifted losers. Upper right, quadrant 1, normal winners. Lower right, quadrant 4, normal losers. You can move up and down, you should aspire to move up, but you can't go left or right. Gifted people and normal people don't mix. Or else people like Dawkins get involved."

"You can't divide humans up like this, it's unhealthy."

"It makes sense. Look, you're down here in Quadrant 3. I was up here, in Quadrant 1. Lissy was there too. Judith is Quadrant 4, Kathy is Quadrant 2. But we're all mixing things up, and it's not going to end well."

"Here," said Michael, and he stole a pink highlighter from Fisk's pencil pouch so he could draw a square in the middle to encompass parts of all four quadrants. "THIS is how it should be. This is how we're gonna be. Inside this square are the people willing to cross these ridiculous, arbitrary lines. Outside the square are people content to live fragmented lives. I refuse to live in a world where you and I can't be friends just because of how we were born. And I don't believe that people can be winners or losers. I think that's a sad way of looking at the world, and I hope Jack finds it within himself to believe as I do, that Gifts and the approval of others do not make a man."

His voice had been steadily growing louder, and by the end of this little speech, the entire class was staring.

"Well," said Mr Dalton. "Thank you for that impassioned discussion of world views, Mr Fisk, Mr Sevenson. I'd like to get on with class, however, unless you have more to say?"

"Speech, speech, speech," Kara chanted quietly.

Three different people lobbed balls of crumpled up paper at her.

**Scene 3:**

“Stop, stop,  _stop_ ,” Mr Makejoye said. “Gloria, you obviously know your parts, I want you to get Rosamund speaking audibly. Judith, go with them, remember you’re supposed to be Helena’s best friend in the world.”

Rosamund looked downright grateful to not be left alone with Gloria, and Judith looked amused.

“Rudy, Joe, I hate to say it, but you’re getting along too well.”

Rudy chuckled. “Yeah, I know, he’s supposed to be my rival for Hermia’s love.”

“Actually, sir, my grandmother’s sick, I’m not sure if I can go on being in the play,” Joe said, wincing.

“You’re  _joking_ ,” said Makejoye. “Who’s the understudy for Lysander?”

“Me,” Falon said.

Judith glanced him over and then shrugged. “I’m comfortable with it. So, do you want to run lines with me and the lovebirds after school?”

Falon nodded, and Makejoye turned to Fisk and Michael, who were still standing in the centre of the mock stage with Callista. “Callista, go run through with Falon’s parts with him so he knows his cues. Off book by Wednesday, Falon!”

Michael shuffled his feet under Makejoye’s gaze. “Michael… You’ve got the bone structure and the deportment to pull off the king of the fairies thing, as long as you don’t  _talk_. Unfortunately, we need you to talk. Now, Fisk, I type-cast you in the hopes that you’d shine, and you’re doing fairly well, but you’re not putting  _feeling_  into it. I know you’re a mischievous bastard, I can see it as well as any Gifted man, just let it show on stage. And by the moons, get Michael comfortable. Got it?”

“Yep,” said Fisk. “C’mon, Oberon.”

**Scene 4:**

"I'm really bad at this," Michael said.

Fisk sighed. "Okay, before we run through again, do you know what Oberon is saying in this scene?"

"He's talking about this time he sat at the edge of the water and listened to a mermaid sing."

"Yeah, okay, so. Puck and Oberon are friends. And you and I are friends. So just pretend you're talking to me."

"In Shakespearean English."

"Ay. If 'tis thy wish, we may give discourse in time-lost tongues 'round the clock, noble sir."

"Don't you think--" Michael began, and then frowned. "Doth thou not suppose 'twill disturb our studies?"

"Doest," Fisk corrected. "And nay, good fellow, an 'twill not be the queerest thing we players have done in service of the stage."

"Thou art a true friend," said Michael.

Fisk went a bit pink. "Uh, prithee let us again read 't the whole way through."

"Gentle Puck, come hither," Michael said, and Fisk jumped to his feet.

**Scene 5:**

"Do you want to sit with me at lunch?" Kathy asked. "It could help our cause."

"Look, Kathy," said Judith. "You're great, you really are, and I really appreciate your help. But you're fifteen. I'm eighteen. We don't have that much in common, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea about us."

"You didn't seem concerned last night, when we made out behind the school."

Judith sighed. She knew her love for the adrenaline rush of law breaking would get her in trouble eventually. She just hadn't expected trouble to come in the form of an underage girl who really liked kissing. "I'm three years older than you."

"Two and a half. And I'm not proposing marriage, but I think we could stand to be friends instead of just partners in crime."

"All right," said Judith. "Just, don't tell anyone about the kissing. Okay?"

"Deal!" Kathy said, and curled her hand around Judith's to tug her along towards a lunch table by the window.

"Judith!" Kara said. "Kathy, you didn't say we'd be having a theatre class reunion. Barton, this is Judith, she's a senior too."

"We took AP Biology together," said Judith. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you in Chem, Barton. Did you get put in the Juniors block?"

"I did. I took Human Anatomy as well, so they had to rearrange my schedule."

"Are you working with magica chemicals in Chem yet?" Kathy asked.

"We are. Don't you have a sensing Gift?"

Kathy shrugged. "Yeah. I wish I could inherit my dad's Gift, though. He can sense people's true selves. Way cooler."

"Okay, so, this might sound dumb, but what does magica feel like?" Kara asked.

"Well, it's... hard to explain," she said. "It's not like touching something and feeling that it's soft. It's like being blind and touching something and your brain just knows it's blue. It's weird.”

“Do any of you watch Merlin?” said Kara suddenly, and the topic shifted.


	5. ACT V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madness & magica.

**Scene 1:**

“’Tis understandable!”

“Thou knowest not of what thou speak,” Fisk snapped.

( _Exeunt.)_

Kathy paused and stared at them as they passed by, still bickering about something. “Uh,” she said. “Did that just happen?”

“Shakespeare may have broken them,” said Judith.

“I’m intrigued,” drawled Callista. “Judith, darling, can I speak to you? I want your opinion on the costumes.”

“Still want to go to the library?” Kathy asked.

Judith nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Callista led Judith away by the hand, and then stopped dead the moment they were in the costume room. “You have  _zero_  self-preservation instinct, Judith!” she hissed.

“I know,” Judith said. “Wait, is this about Kathy or Jack?”

“See, the fact that you have to ask which ridiculous scheme I’m warning you about is part of the problem,” Callista said. “This is Crown City High, you can’t just run around  _challenging the system_.”

“I’m just a rebellious teen.”

“No, you’re a Giftless teenager with anarchist propaganda across every social media platform you’ve got. They’ll label you a domestic terrorist the second you put a toe out of line. And that’s  _if_  Jack doesn’t get involved.”

“Jack doesn’t scare me.”

Callista groaned. “Then you’re not paying attention. He was getting teachers fired with dirt he had on them before we left middle school, and he’s only gotten smarter these past four years.”

“Blackmail? He can’t blackmail me,” said Judith, “I’ve got nothing.”

“You have your brother.”

Judith flinched. “This is about Fisk?”

“With Jack, it’s always about Fisk,” Callista told her.

“Well, he can’t have Fisk. I appreciate your concern, Callie, I really do, but the fact is, Jack is just an angry kid from a broken home with a sick infatuation with my little brother. So he has dirt on some teachers. He can’t get me in trouble for my political beliefs alone.”

Callista grabbed her arm. “I was there last night. Jack had me follow you. I have – and he has – pictures of you kissing Kathy, pretty little Gifted underage Kathy with a line of prospective boyfriends and an astronomical GPA,” she said.

Judith went pale, and then the door creaked open. Callista surged forward and kissed Judith, making Kathy gasp, and then she pulled away and murmured, “See you Wednesday, Hermia.”

“What is  _her_  problem?” Kathy asked. Then, “Let’s go to the library, come on.”

“Um,” said Judith.

Kathy paused to inspect one of the gowns. “Whoa, this is really pretty… Judith?”

“How did you know I wasn’t in here che—kissing her?”

“Because I was eavesdropping,” said Kathy. “Looks like you’ve corrupted ‘pretty little Gifted Kathy’, incidentally, though not in the way she means. You know, we could stop at Dairy Queen before we go to the library, I could pay,” she mused.

Judith grinned at her, bright and wicked. “Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely,” said Kathy, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Judith quickly.

**Scene 2:**

 “My mistress with a monster is in love,” Fisk said, grinning, and Michael grinned back. “Near to her close and consecrated bower—stop that, what are you doing with your face?”

“I’m trying to convey a sense of mischief,” said Michael.

Fisk laughed, and the shared mirth was distracting enough that he didn’t notice Dawkins’ baseball bat wielding crony until the bat was swinging in arc towards them. Michael took the brunt of it, because he shoved Fisk out of the way. Fisk fell against a fence, hard, but he was only distantly aware of the scrapes up his arms, because Michael was on his hands and knees from the force of the blow.

He scrambled to his feet, only for Dawkins to loom between him and Michael holding – “A switchblade? Seriously? Do you even know how to—” Fisk broke off when the knife flipped out and was suddenly too close to his throat for comfort. “Murder, ah, murder isn’t really a good start to your junior year, Willy.”

Behind Dawkins, Michael had managed to grab the end of the bat and was thrashing out at his attacker with vicious kicks. In fact, it had started to look like he might be evenly matched, which was naturally when three more arrived.

“Okay, okay, Dawkins, I get it, you’re serious. Let’s just talk about this  _rationally_.”

“Sorry, Fisk, I really am. Well, no, I’m not. But it’s not personal. Ah, Jack,” he said, looking over Fisk’s shoulder.

Jack’s hands were steadying Fisk a moment later, pushing Fisk behind himself. “Dawkins. We’re not going to have a problem, right?”

“Not unless that boy of yours talks,” drawled Dawkins.

“He won’t. He’s smart. Right, Fisk?”

“Michael too,” Fisk said. Michael was still putting up one hell of a fight, but he had someone on each limb now, and if Dawkins got involved, with the knife or the bat that had been dropped in the scuffle, Michael would be hurt. Or worse.

“Don’t be an idiot, Fisk,” hissed Jack.

Fisk tried to shove past Jack. “Michael too.”

“Fisk—” said Jack, in the exasperated tone he used whenever he thought Fisk was being particularly thick.

“Fire! Help, fire, help!” He yelled, desperate, even though this neighborhood was too bad for anyone to come looking, if they could even hear them from the park.

Jack clamped a hand over his mouth and hauled him away.

Dawkins moved towards Michael, who was still struggling, and then—and then Michael was gone. Vanished. Though, judging by the people still holding him, just invisible.

It was hard to say who bolted first, but even Jack let go of Fisk and fled.

Fisk crept forward, slow and cautious. “Michael?”

“This is not how I wanted you to find out,” came Michael’s voice, miserable, from thin air. Or, well, from invisible lungs, since Fisk’s outstretched fingertips could now feel Michael’s wrinkled button down.

A moment later, Fisk was clutching Michael tightly by the shoulders. “Are you all right? C’mon, Mike, turn visible, I want to make sure you didn’t break anything.”

“I can’t really… I’ll turn back when I’m less scared. Can we sit for a minute?”

“Okay,” Fisk said, and settled down beside him. A quick inventory of light touches told him Michael was hunched in on himself, and he found Michael’s clammy hands and squeezed one. “How’s your head? Dizzy? Drowsy?”

“No, no, I’m—I did that.”

Fisk snorted. “Yeah, I sort of guessed. What’s your deal? Are you an X-Man? Because, I have to tell you, I  _will_  jump Wolverine’s bones.”

“This isn’t funny,” Michael said.

“Maybe not, but it’s cursed handy. Can you do anything else? Fly?”

“I… may have levitated a bit once. But that was more making the air thick than actually actual flying. And I can make water wetter.”

“Less handy,” Fisk teased, and got a rough chuckle. “Does it only happen when you’re frightened?”

“Yes,” whispered Michael, and Fisk wished he could see the other boy’s face so he could read it.

“Well, it’s been theorized that the intellectually disabled can work magic because their mental pathways are less complex and therefore more able to handle magic. Maybe something about the way your sympathetic nervous system works allows you to use the magic of your Gifts in different ways. Or maybe magica humans have finally evolved…”

“No. No, I—I would be able to tell if I was magica.”

“Because of your sensing Gift?” Fisk prompted.

Michael’s silence was telling.

“Is there something else?”

“I can see magica. All the time. So it’s not just when my para-whatever kicks up. I’m just a freak.”

“No, that’s an amplified version of your sensing Gift, that’s different from active magic. And, actually, yes, you’re a freak. So am I! I’m bisexual, some people think that makes me a freak, I learned to read when I was four, some people think that makes me a freak. Judith is tall, so she’s a freak. Kathy is near-sighted, so she’s a freak. The idea that some people are average and others are freaks based on arbitrary characteristics is absurd, Michael. Everyone has  _something_  about them that makes them extraordinary and something that makes them ostensibly ‘less’.”

Fisk suddenly had long, gangly arms wrapped around him, which was alarming, but he could see Michael again, so he counted it as a win all around. “Thank you,” Michael mumbled.

“Yeah, well,” Fisk said. Then, “Okay, let’s get you to my house. It’s closer, and we have towels and ice packs. Let me know if you get dizzy, or the pain suddenly worsens.”

“You’re an excellent Puck, Fisk.”

Fisk ducked under one of Michael’s arms so the taller boy could put some of his weight on Fisk instead. “Yeah, Makejoye really did do some type-casting there.”


	6. ACT VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends & family.

"Promise me you won’t freak out," Fisk called, barely giving Kathy and Judith a second to pull their hands free of each other, and a second later, he came into the room with Michael leaning heavily on him.

Kathy scrambled to her feet. "Michael!"

"I'm fine," Michael told her. "Just sore."

"Who did this? Did you call the cops?"

"Even if Michael were still a Sevenson golden boy, we couldn't call the cops,” Fisk said. “I pulled an illegal weapon to scare them off, and they'll blab if we turn them in."

Michael stared at Fisk. Then, "I didn't get a chance to thank you for what you did back there. Most people would've run."

"It's prolonged exposure to your brand of crazy," said Fisk. "I no longer do the logical thing. Come on, let's get ice on those bruises. You're staying here from now on, though. You're clearly a magnet for trouble."

"I can't," Michael said, and winced. "I... adopted a stray dog. The motel doesn't know, he's a mute, but I won't burden you with two more mouths to feed."

Fisk waved it off. "Don't be an idiot. Anna's husband is rich. He'll take care of it."

"He will," said Judith, when Michael looked at her for confirmation.

Kathy's phone rang, and she went pale. "It's mum and dad," she hissed.

"You're at a friend's house," Judith prompted.

"Right. Okay. Hi," she said, answering the phone. "What? I texted you. You said you wanted me to make more time for friends, so I'm... at a friend's house. No, it's not Michael. I hardly see Michael outside of theatre class. My friend’s name is Judith, she's a senior. Yeah, she's the lead girl in the school play. What?  _No_. No, it's not because I'm lying, it's because she's a senior with extracurricular activities and AP classes and college apps and her own family, she can't just come over for dinner so you can vet her."

"Do you want me to talk to them?" Judith asked, amused.

Kathy handed over the phone.

"Hi, is this Kathy's father speaking? Yes, sir, I'm Judith. Four AP classes, sir. Yes, chemistry, English, physics, and statistics. Well, because I took biology and calculus last year, it seems silly to retake classes if you got a 5 on the exam. Mr Todd? He's nice enough, his daughter is turning eight soon. Uh, yes, in addition to theatre, I'm in Latin club and Leading Ladies of Tomorrow. Well, sir, I disagree, I think Latin and theatre are very practical. I intend to be a lawyer, sir."

Fisk snorted quietly at the faces Judith was pulling while she answered Mr. Sevenson’s barrage of questions.

"Well, I was on the lacrosse team, but their meetings conflicted with too many college visits. I'll go to Crown City College for my associate's, but - ah, yes, I suppose I will be applying to university the same time Kathy is. I look forward to tough competition for getting in. Well, I don't know, we have family dinners every night, and if Kathy isn't comfortable with me intruding... Yes, she's right here."

Judith handed the phone back over and turned to Fisk and Michael. "The vitamin K cream is in the pantry. If you give me the motel key, I can get your things. And the dog,” she said, in a low voice.

**Scene 2:**

“Your sisters are incredible people,” Michael said, that night, from where he was lying on a row of couch cushions beside Fisk’s bed.

“I agree with two thirds of that statement,” Fisk told him. “Judith is subpar at best.”

Michael reached up to swat idly at Fisk. “She was very kind to me, and she stood up to my father for Kathy.”

“That’s because your sister is helping her challenge the status quo.”

“I’m serious, Fisk.”

“So am I.”

“You are terrible at taking compliments.”

Fisk snorted. “Telling me my sisters are better than me isn’t news or a compliment, Michael.”

“That’s—that’s not what I meant. I mean… What you did today, Fisk, that was. I’m incredibly glad that you… I suppose what I’m trying to say is thank you.”

“You can thank me by keeping your mangy mutt from eating me in my sleep,” Fisk said, and True thumped his tail and panted happily at him. “And by explaining your powers. But that can wait until I get some sleep. Turns out watching you almost die is exhausting.”

Michael laughed, and Fisk reached over to turn off the light. They laid in darkness for a while before Fisk said, “Good night, Michael.”

“Good night, Fisk,” Michael said.


	7. ACT VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking & entering.

**Scene 1:**

"Oh dear," said Kathy, staring at the caution tape.

Makejoye was pacing up and down the pavement outside the auditorium, and with a shared glance, the four of them approached. "Mr Makejoye?" Michael said.

"I knew I never should have trusted an English teacher in my auditorium," he muttered.

"What?" Said Fisk.

"That menace Ceciel, she said the name of the play in the auditorium yesterday, and then there was an electrical error. An electrical error! A crazy fluke!"

"Uh," said Michael.

Callista, who had been talking to the janitor, approached and laid a comforting hand on Makejoye's shoulder. "Fisk and Michael are in her English class. They'll be able to convince her to do the cleansing ritual."

"Will you?" Makejoye demanded of them.

Michael blinked. "Erm, we'll certainly do our best. Callista, a word?"

She led all four of them away. "You're all new to theatre, so you wouldn't know. You mustn't say Macbeth in a theater. It's bad luck. Supposedly the witches cursed the play. Real witches. You have to get Ceciel to do the ritual, or Makejoye won't rest."

"Ritual?" Kathy asked. "What ritual?"

**Scene 2:**

"Absolutely not," Ceciel said. "That's absurd. Hector is an intelligent man, he knows that these superstitions are entirely unfounded."

"You have to, or he'll be a wreck for the rest of the play. Please, Mrs Mallory, we'll do anything."

A crafty look stole into her eyes. "Anything?"

**Scene 3:**

"I don't like this," Fisk said, not for the first time. "Pissing Jack off is never a good idea."

"I'm not afraid of Jack. He's scared of me, if he has any sense, and you say he's very sensible."

"Frightened people do stupid things. And you're picking the latch all wrong. Dammit, okay, you stand watch, I'll handle this."

Michael stepped obligingly out of the way and kept an eye out around the side of the house. "Why are you good at breaking and entering, anyway?"

"How do you think Jack got his blackmail material?" Fisk said, with an unrepentantly mischievous grin over his shoulder as he slid the knife under the window's frame and unhooked the latch. "We're in."

"What do you think he has on your sister?" Michael asked, as Fisk climbed through the window.

"We'll find out soon enough."

Michael frowned and clamored through the window after him. "You promised not to look!"

"I lied," said Fisk.

"But--"

"Look, whatever it is, it's bad enough that Judith is willing to send me after it with the knowledge I'll almost definitely look. Which means it's bad enough that I should know."

"That's circular logic," said Michael.

Fisk snorted. "Of course it is. Come on, Jack's bedroom is the one above the garage."

"How do you know that?" Michael asked as he followed Fisk up the stairs. "I thought you'd never been here before."

"I haven't. But Jack always chooses the most remote bedroom, and always one with several points of egress. That would be the FROG in a house like this."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he told me. It's how he manages to sneak out and sneak people in without his parents knowing. His room won't lend itself to concealment, at least not ostensibly, but there will be at least four hiding places."

Fisk stopped in front of the last door in the hall.

"Did  _you_  ever sneak in through his window?" Michael asked.

"What's the matter, Mike? Only okay with me being bi as long as you don't have to hear about me with guys?" Fisk’s voice was filled with venom and ice as he glared daggers at Michael, who went still and silent. "I just want to know more about you, Fisk,” he said finally. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh," said Fisk, feeling rather stupid. "I shouldn't have assumed... Well, whatever." He opened the door and started looking around the room, which was mostly bare.

"So, you dated Jack. And you didn't part on amicable terms?"

"That's one way of putting it," Fisk said.

"I'm sorry,” said Michael, and wisely didn’t pry further. “You must've been close. But from what I've seen of Jack, you deserve better."

"That's what my sisters said."

Michael, who was looking for a hollow book on the shelves - which held less than fifty books, something Michael couldn't fathom - paused and glanced at him. "You don't think so?"

"I think," said Fisk, as he checked under the mattress, "sometimes we have to take what we can get."

"That seems sad."

They both moved towards Jack's chest of drawers next, but Michael backed off and started on the desk.

"So does being smitten with a girl who thinks of you as a brother. No offense."

Michael groaned. "That obvious, is it?"

"Michael, Makejoye has made no less than eight jokes about how he should've cast Rudy and you as Lysander and Demetrius."

"I've loved her since we were children," he said, wistfully. "I hardly remember a time when I didn't love her."

"See, there's your problem. You decided you loved her before you had any frame of reference for attraction of any sort, and you never moved on because your feelings never changed because you were never in love with her to begin with."

"I—what?"

"Hey, maybe I'm wrong. Or maybe you're another victim of the imposition of heterosexual and heteroromantic orientations on young children to enforce compliance with the social norms of attraction."

Michael sighed. "So, I take it you can't find the flash drive?"

"The fact that I'm pissed off because my ex boyfriend is outsmarting me doesn't mean my point isn't valid," said Fisk. "I can't believe we couldn't find it. This room is not that big."

"Maybe he carries it with him."

"No, he knows how easy pickpockets can get something like that, I showed him myself, so unless he's wearing only skinny jeans these days, he knows better than to keep it on him."

"I think this guy is a bit too paranoid for his own good," said Michael.

Fisk snorted. "Jack is a career criminal. It's what he's always wanted to do. There's no such thing as too paranoid when you're a career criminal."

"Is that what you wanted to be?"

"I just wanted to take care of my sisters," Fisk said. "But burglary is not a time for deep conversations. Or shallow ones, for that matter."

Michael started to reply, but Fisk suddenly jumped up. "Shallow! It was too shallow!"

He scrambled in the desk drawers again. "Michael, you have fingernails, help me get the false bottom up."

**Scene 4:**

"We can't get Hackle his old job back," Kathy explained. "But he's more than qualified to be the nurse's assistant. We talked to Nurse Mapple, and she's agreed to put in a requisition for an assistant, and even to suggest Hackle."

"I won't do the silly ritual unless you're successful," warned Mrs Mallory.

Judith leaned forward. "If we can't get him hired this way, we have a few other options. The student who originally got Hackle fired has similar material on almost every faculty member. We can, if necessary, use it to... nudge the correct people towards hiring Hackle. And we can, of course, suggest very quietly to people that Hackle is having employment difficulties with the school system on account of his disability."

"I can also, if there is still resistance, discredit the student and have my family put their weight behind Hackle."

"You're good," said Ceciel. "It's actually concerning, how prepared you all are."

"If we start being approached with suspicion or to help other teachers, we'll take you and Hackle down. This is not to become a habit or scandal," Kathy said.

"I understand."

Judith and Kathy shared a look. "We hope you do," said Judith.

"Nice doing business with you," said Kathy.

**Scene 5:**

“Fisk, I’m serious, this is a gross invasion of your sister’s privacy,” Michael said, even as he looked over Fisk’s shoulder while the other boy plugged the flash drive into the USB port on his clunky laptop.

“And I told you, she gave me tacit approval when—oh,” Fisk broke off and stared. “That’s not good.”

Michael’s hand on Fisk’s shoulder tightened to the point of pain as he stared at the screen, which was full of large thumbnail images of Kathy and Judith breaking and entering, and – more importantly – making out.

“What’s wrong?” Kathy asked, as she came into the room with the confident air of a recent success.

Judith sighed and stepped into the room behind Kathy. “They know, Kathy.”

“Oh,” said Kathy. “Hang on, you’re  _mad_  at me?”

“You’re fifteen, Kathy!”

Kathy glared at Michael. “Oh, just because I haven’t been in love with the same girl since primary school, I’m not allowed to have a love life?”

“That’s not—you could get Judith in trouble! You’re underage, for the gods’ sake, Kathy.”

Fisk started to edge out of the room, and both of the Sevensons whirled on him at the exact same time. “You’re staying,” they snapped.

“Hey, I’m not even involved in this one,” he said. He had his hands up in front of himself.

“You need to talk sense into Michael,” said Kathy.

“No, what he needs to do is tell his sister to keep her hands off of underage girls!”

“You were so gung-ho about getting me emancipated, Michael, how is this any different? And stop acting like this is Judith’s fault, it was totally consensual snogging!”

“Do you want me to blame you more? Because I can do that! I have half a mind to call Father—”

“You wouldn’t  _dare_!”

Fisk cleared his throat. “Rosamund and you have a nearly identical age gap to Judith and Kathy’s,” he told Michael. Before Kathy could thank him, he added, “And I have my reservations about that particular crush as well.”

Both Kathy and Michael scowled at him, but neither replied.

“Kathy turns sixteen in two months. If both she and Judith agree to keep things PG until then, Kathy will be at the federal age of consent, and we’ll cease to have a say in the matter. We’ll just hope they do what’s best for them. Right?”

Finally, Michael nodded, and Kathy beamed.

“That was… more painless than I expected,” said Judith. “Huh.”

“The words you’re looking for are ‘thank’ and ‘you’,” Fisk told her.

She flipped him off, and he laughed.

**Scene 6:**

A curious crowd gathered behind Makejoye as Mallory turned in a circle, said “Fuck!” aloud, and then spat on the ground. “Are you happy now, you superstitious old coot?” She demanded, a moment later.

“Ecstatic,” he said.

Kathy, Judith, Michael, and Fisk were standing in a little cluster a few steps away, and Makejoye made a beeline for them. “I don’t know how you did it, and I’m fairly sure I don’t want to know,” he said. “But I am eternally grateful.”

“It was hardly any trouble,” said Michael.

Fisk snorted. “Don’t listen to him. It was cursed difficult. But no one’s dead or imprisoned, so we’ll count it a win.”

“And the curse has been stopped,” Makejoye said happily.

They all managed to keep a straight face until he was gone. Then they dissolved into helpless giggles.


	8. ACT VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking legs & other curses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little more theatre lore here. There are three rules to a successful production, according to our superstitions.  
> 1) don't say the name of The Scottish Play in a theater  
> 2) don't say the last line of the production until opening night  
> 3) always say "break a leg", never "good luck"

**Scene 1:**

“You’ve been sneaking out of the house,” Rosamund challenged.

Kathy winced. “Just to get a little fresh air,” she lied.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Kat, I know you’re up to something.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” tried Kathy, and Rosamund scoffed.

Kathy looked around desperately, as if it might make Judith miraculously appear to rescue her from her cousin’s concerned frown. Kathy was a good liar, at least when it came to adults, but Rosamund had grown up with her, she could tell.

“Look. Kat. I get it, okay, I’m not good at keeping secrets, and it’s probably hard for you to talk about it after being quiet for so long, but I’ve known since we were kids that you liked girls. It’s never bothered me, and I’m not going to tell your parents.”

“Oh, Rosamund,” said Kathy, and threw her arms around her friend’s neck. “Thank you.”

“You dork,” murmured Rosamund.

Kathy laughed. “Yeah, well. You love me anyway.”

**Scene 2:**

“You broke into my house,” Jack snarled.

Michael blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.

“Don’t play games with me, Sevenson. I know it was you.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” said Michael, and Jack scowled.

Fisk had a dentist appointment, and as such, he wasn’t around to rescue Michael from the obligation to lie. Not only did Michael hate lying for moral reasons, he was also terrible at it.

“Fine, Sevenson. Play dumb all you’d like, but I know it was you, and I’m not going to forget about this. Whatever weird sort of mutant you are, you don’t scare me. So, either return my property, or you’ll have one more enemy. And frankly, Sevenson? You don’t need any more enemies.”

“Oh, really?” said Michael, and backed Jack into the corner. “Because I think I do scare you.”

“You’re an idiot,” hissed Jack.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

**Scene 3:**

“Are you kidding me?” Makejoye said. “How the hell did you break your ankle a week bore the show?”

“It was so weird,” said Lester. “I run on the athletic field every day, same route, and all of a sudden, there’s a hole. And, technically, I also broke my leg. I’m doped up on so many painkillers, dude, I don’t even _care_.”

A strange look crossed Makejoye’s face. “Has anyone wished you luck on the play?”

“Maybe. Wait! Yeah! My mom did.”

“Oh no,” said Rudy, and went to help Lester to his seat, saying, “okay, buddy, I need you to have your mom tell you ‘break a leg’ tonight, okay?”

“The show’s cursed,” Edith said.

“Serves Makejoye right,” Gloria said. “I should have been Hermia.”

Kathy turned around in her seat. “You’ve played a lead female in six out of seven productions, Gloria, surely even your overinflated ego will allow you to let younger actresses have a chance at the spotlight 14 percent of the time.”

Rosamund ducked her head and smiled.

**Scene 4:**

“Someone raided the props closet!”

Fisk and Michael sprang out of their seats to go investigate (Michael with a wince, since he still had bruises). Costumes were strewn all across the room, trampled and town apart. A pile of broken prop weapons and deconstructed set furniture had been stacked high, like a pyre for the Titania gown – by far the most splendid of all the costume finery – which had been snipped to shreds.

“You!” Makejoye thundered, jabbing a finger at Fisk.

Fisk blinked. “Sir?”

“Are you the one who’s cursed us? Have you been saying the last line of the play? Have you?”

“No, sir, not at all.”

“It’s okay,” Kathy said quickly, as she awkwardly patted Makejoye’s arm. “We’ll go to thrift stores tonight, I’ll pay for some spectacular clothes. Rudy, Falon, go talk to the woodshop teacher, maybe he’ll let us use the scraps to make props. Callista, Gloria, go to the art rooms, see if they can spare paint, and they always have scrap paper. Fisk, Michael, ask the home ec teacher if we can use the sewing machines tomorrow after school, to alter clothes. The rest of you, go through your closets and your parents’ closets, try to find some things to replace the costumes for other productions if you can spare it. Suits, hats, stockings, anything your families don’t want anymore, bring them here, I’ll write up a form for tax deductions.”

Missions given out, the crowd dispersed. Kathy turned to Judith with a smile. “How’d I do?”

“Beautifully,” said Judith, swooping in to kiss her forehead. “I’ll go to the hardware store to find a decent lock for this thing, and then something to seal the gap under the door so it can’t be damaged in other ways. This looks like sabotage.”

“Is it okay if Rose and I duck out of rehearsal early to hit the thrift stores?” Kathy asked.

Makejoye nodded, but stopped her before she could leave. “Thank you.”

“We’re going to put this play on, sir. No matter what.”

**Scene 5:**

“Theatre is using your sewing machines tomorrow, I’ll bring you coffee,” Fisk told the home ec teacher, then left.

“You can’t just—” Michael flapped a hand about in a gesture that evidently meant ‘tell teachers what you’re doing to do’. “She’s a teacher!”

“She lives in the yellow house on the hill with her husband, I mow their lawn, she collects snowman figurines, he has a photographic memory, they both have a caffeine addiction because they quit smoking. She doesn’t mind if we use her machines, trust me.”

“Whoa,” said Michael.

“Go catch up with your sister. I’ve got something I need to do.”

**Scene 6:**

“Fisk,” Jack said, staring at him.

Fisk shuffled his feet on the doorstep. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Are you going to steal something else?” asked Jack sardonically, but he stepped aside and closed the door behind Fisk when he ventured inside.

“I’m here to make it up to you,” said Fisk. “It was a necessary evil, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

Jack dragged a long, slow look over Fisk. Finally, “Make it up to me how?”

“I thought you might have few ideas,” Fisk said.

“That boy of yours…”

“What Michael doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Jack crowded Fisk back against the door, gaze predatory. “That’s my boy,” he said, and kissed Fisk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I wrap this up in one more chapter? That remains to be seen. Or, heh, *scene*. Anyone? No? Okay, okay.


	9. Act IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underage & ultimatums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I can't wrap this up in one more chapter. I mean, unless its wordcount hits 2k, and that seems excessive.

**Scene 1:**

“Where the hell have you been?” Anna demanded, when Fisk slunk into the house at 4am.

“Around,” he said. “What are you doing awake? Go to bed, I’m fine.”

“Michael told me everything, Fisk, so whatever you did to avenge the theatre—oh my gods.”

Fisk winced as the realization dawned on his sister’s face. “Look, don’t worry about it.”

“You slept with Jack, Fisk, of course I’m going to worry. That boy is toxic. And so is repressing your feelings for Michael all the damned time. Everyone can see it, Fisk, and I don’t even see you that often.”

“I’m not in – I don’t have _feelings_ for Michael, Anna.”

“You’re not being honest to yourself, and you’re not being honest to me!”

“Yeah,” Fisk said viciously, “that’s me, the liar in the family. I know I’m a fucking disappointment, Anna, you don’t have to remind me.”

She sighed, looking at him. “Fisk,” she said. “I love you.”

“You too,” he mumbled, as she hugged him.

“I’m incredibly proud of you, Fisk. You’re smart and kind and you take care of people. I just worry, okay?”

“I know,” he said.

She ruffled his hair. “Go shower. You smell like sex, and it’s really gross.”

**Scene 2:**

“You seem oddly subdued,” Michael said the next morning, as Fisk slumped against the lockers.

“Just get your textbooks and let’s go.”

“Where’d you go last night? We were supposed to watch that Firefly marathon on—” Michael broke off, staring into his locker. Fisk looked over his shoulder with a sense of dread, and was not disappointed. There was a picture taped to the back of Michael’s locker, printed cheaply on regular computer paper, but it was still recognizably Fisk. Naked. In Jack’s room. With the little date and time in the corner. Shit, had there been a camera in that room?

“Son of a bitch.”

Michael snatched up the paper, shoving it into his bookbag, and slammed his locker. He had red spots blooming high on his cheeks, and an uncharacteristic scowl. “Excuse me,” he said to Fisk, and stalked away.

**Scene 3:**

“Did you see Sevenson?” someone hissed, while Judith was on the way to her second bell. She stopped dead, making someone behind her curse inventively.

“I didn’t think he had it in him to take on Markham like that,” someone else said.

Judith grabbed the most recent speaker by the collar and slammed him into the wall. “Tell me what happened. Now.”

“All I saw was him looming over Markham, waving a paper around, and threatening to call the fucking cops,” he said quickly.

“Thank you,” she said, letting go of him and dusting his shirt off for him. “That’s all I needed. Carry on.”

As he hurried away, she sought out Michael in the crowds. “What happened?” she demanded, as soon as she found him. Fisk was nowhere in sight.

“He was in possession of child pornography,” said Michael, but a muscle was jumping in his jaw.

She connected the dots. “Fisk went to him last night to get him to stop sabotaging us, offered sex in return, Jack took a picture, then taunted you with it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“No,” said Michael, grabbing her arm. “No more escalation. We’re at a stalemate. He won’t risk sabotaging us, and we won’t risk Fisk’s face being plastered all over the room.”

“How does Fisk feel about all of this?”

It was plain in Michael’s face that he hadn’t spoken to Fisk since finding out. “What the hell, Sevenson?”

“What?”

“Go talk to my brother. Right now. He’s probably wallowing in ridiculous amounts of manpain right now, and I would rather he wear basketball shorts and long socks than be an angst machine.”

**Scene 4:**

“He took advantage of you,” Michael blurted out, as soon as he ran into Fisk. “And I don’t blame you, okay, I’m mostly angry with Jack. Like, 95%. But I wish you’d been honest with me.”

“That’s all anybody wants. I’m sick of it. I don’t talk about myself, Michael. I don’t share how I feel, I don’t tell people what I think of them, I don’t voice political or religious beliefs, I am not an open person, I am not honest, so stop expecting me to be something I’m not!”

“I know,” said Michael.

Fisk glared at him a moment longer before relenting. “Look. I know I should’ve told you. But if I had, you would’ve stopped me, and Jack would still be sabotaging the play. It was going to work out perfectly. You’d be happier not knowing, Jack would stop arranging accidents and destroying property, and Makejoye would get to do his play.”

“But what about you?”

Fisk frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your plan. Everyone got something out of it, except for you.”

“I’m playing the lead,” said Fisk, “and I had pretty decent sex, what more could I want?”

“Love? Affection? Something you actually wanted?” Michael suggested.

For a brief moment, Fisk thought back on Anna’s tirade about honesty. Then, “Sometimes, Michael,” he said, “we have to take what we can get.”


	10. ACT X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fires of adversity & other stupid cliches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sWEAR THIS NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE LAST ONE

**Scene 1:**

Opening night passed in a hazy blur. Things still felt weird between him and Michael, but Fisk was too busy panicking over his lines to really focus on that. Callista flashed him a thumbs up when he left his first scene, though, so that seemed like a win.

All too soon, though, it was time for Fisk’s soliloquy.

Fisk took a deep breath and stepped into the yellow glow of the spotlight. He was warm, too warm, and he took care not to lock his knees. Makejoye had gone an unusual route with the stage directions for Puck's speech. All four of the happy couples were standing together, with Theseus and Hippolyta on lower Stage Left, Hermia and Lysander on upper stage left, Helena and Demetrius on upper stage right, and Oberon and Titania on lower stage right. "If we shadows have offended," he said, and was surprised when his voice didn't crack, "think but this, and all is mended..." his line of sight trailed a bit to where his sisters were sitting. "That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear."

Jack was sitting two rows behind Lizzie.

"And this weak and idle theme no more yielding than a dream," and yeah, that line probably wasn't meant to he read with so much sass saturation, like he was challenging the audience to not ignore the play. "Gentles, do not reprehend; if you pardon, we will mend."

And then Michael was shifting a little besides Callista, breaking the cardinal rule and directing his ridiculously open body language upstage.

"And as I am an honest Puck..." He knew the next line, he knew how it fit the meter, he knew every word, but none of it came. _If I am an honest Puck_. Michael and his stupid rules about honesty.

Fisk cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from Michael. "If we have unearned luck now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends ere long."

He could practically feel Judith staring at him as he made his way through the next couplet and onto the last lines, the lines he'd never said before right now, "Give me your hands," he said, and held put his hands. Nearly seamlessly, Michael and Joe stepped forward to link hands with Fisk and their "wives". Behind him, the two other pairs were holding hands too. "If we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends."

They all bowed, and the crowd applauded, and then Michael slipped his hands free from Fisk and Callista so he could pull Fisk in for a rather public first kiss.

There was a silence in the auditorium. And then there came a slow, steady clapping that Fisk would bet came from the tech loft, where Kathy had been manning the lights. And then the other cast members started clapping, and Kara shouted "OTP!" from backstage and that was it, hundreds of students and a surprisingly large amount of parents were on their feet, clapping and cheering and whistling.

Fisk was very still. Then, "Sorry, Titania!" He said, loud enough to carry, and Callista snickered and said she liked the Donkey better anyway and holy shit Fisk was engaging in very public PDA and also pretty happy and he'd just turned a Shakespearean comedy into a gay love story.

Michael was watching him, half hopeful and half resigned. "I'm sorry--"

"If the next words aren't 'that I didn't do that sooner', I will punch you," said Fisk, and Michael beamed.

**Scene 2:**

The second and third nights of the play were increasingly packed, as even people who didn’t have children in school started to show up to see this latest interpretation. Makejoye was delighted to tell them about his vision, and Fisk suddenly found himself one half of a power couple that Kara had dubbed Fiskael (pronounced ‘fiscal’, just to make it doubly confusing).

Fisk and Michael had perfected their onstage kiss, and also spent quite a bit of the play flirting deliberately, although Kathy and Judith had gleefully informed them that Fisk had accidentally portrayed Puck as having an unrequited love for Oberon the first night.

Thunderous applause followed this time, and it was very satisfying. Which, of course, meant that was the moment the fire alarms went off and the sprinklers started dousing everyone with surprisingly cold water.

A great deal of shrieking ensued, and Fisk had to rescue a few freshmen from the stampede of people exiting, but by the time smoke was pouring into the room, the auditorium was clear.

“Holy shit,” Judith said, panting, when they finally turned back to look at the school. “It’s actually on fire.”

“I prayed for this day,” said Fisk, “to both the gods, and they didn’t ever listen. But tonight, tonight’s when they decided to burn that sucker down.”

“At least it was the final night,” Gloria said brightly.

Fisk nodded in agreement, realized what he was doing, and turned to Michael to comment on how much theatre kid nonsense they’d picked up. Except Michael wasn’t there.

He pulled his phone out and called Michael’s stupid, stupid burner phone, and a moment later, Michael answered. “Fisk!” he said. “Callista’s still inside!”

“Where are _you_?”

“...Inside.”

“Get out, Michael!”

“Not until I find Callista!”

Fisk closed his eyes. “Cover your mouth with your shirt, crawl, conserve oxygen, open every window you can reach safely,” he ordered, and hung up.

Kathy punched him in the ribs. “You’re letting him stay in there?!”

“Callista’s in there, he won’t leave until he saves her, you know him,” said Fisk. “Or until a firefighter drags him out, which is another reason I’m having him open windo— _oh_ ,” he said, staring across the parking lot at Jack, who was watching the school burn with a horrified stare.

Judith, Kathy, and Rosamund followed him as he stomped over to Jack.

“What did you do,” he growled.

“I—Dawkins—oh my gods.”

“If he dies in there, Jack, no-one will find your body. Do you hear me?” Fisk was yelling, Judith was pulling him away, but he didn’t care.

“Look!” Rosamund said.

He followed her pointing to where smoke was spewing out of the school along a series of regular intervals. “Windows,” he said.

The next thirty seconds, maybe a minute, felt like an eternity. Then a door opened and Michael stumbled out, carrying Callista.

Fisk’s knees went weak. Kathy actually screamed beside him.

“Thank the gods,” said Rosamund from behind them, and then there was a sick thud. Fisk was dimly aware that she’d punched Jack in the stomach, or maybe kneed him in the balls, given the way Jack was gasping for air and falling to the ground, but he really couldn’t focus on that as the first two crews of paramedics swarmed Michael.

“Hey, idiot,” Fisk said, when he managed to shove his way through the crowd to where Michael was sitting in the back of an ambulance with an oxygen mask. “You ever do that again, I might kill you myself.”

Michael pulled the mask away from his face, swatting an EMT’s hands away as she tried to stop him. “I love you,” he said.

“You too,” said Fisk.

“It’s all very touching, now put your mask back on,” snapped the EMT.


	11. ACT XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rants & resolutions.

**Scene 1:**

“Family meeting,” Kathy snarled as she stalked past her parents into the sitting room. After a moment of shocked silence, they followed. Rosamund was already sitting primly on the loveseat beside a rather scruffy-looking Michael.

“What are you doing in my house?” said Roland Sevenson, glaring at his youngest son.

Michael lifted his chin. “It’s a family meeting. I’m family.”

“We need to get a few things straight. Mum, Dad, Michael isn’t straight. Neither am I. Rosamund might actually be, so, congratulations, you raised two sons and one daughter to be totally cisgender heterosexual people.

“Mum, you can stop emotionally blackmailing me for grandchildren, because I don’t want children. I’ve never wanted children. If you want grandchildren, your best bets are sitting on that loveseat. Michael wants to adopt, and if you’d ever stopped to ask him, you’d know that.

“Dad. You spent the entirety of my living memory telling us that everything is black and white. Good, evil, gay, straight, male, female. That’s not true. And if you can’t handle that, I’m moving out.

“And all of us are invited to the Fisk family’s house this weekend. Michael’s dating Fisk, the only boy. I’m dating Judith. Rosamund, Anna says you can bring Rudy. Any questions?”

_finite._


End file.
